


Blindsided

by Stacy LA Stronach (slashgirl)



Category: Homicide: Life on the Street
Genre: Episode Related, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-21
Updated: 2010-07-21
Packaged: 2017-10-10 17:39:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/102353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashgirl/pseuds/Stacy%20LA%20Stronach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim gets what he needs from Frank.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blindsided

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during/after the ep "Double Blind"; the first dialogue exchange between T/F and the first part of the scene at Tim's uncle's  
> house were taken straight from the ep.
> 
> Written: July 1998

"That poor woman, daughter murders her husband, now she's got nothing left. Yeah, I'd lie for Billie too," Bayliss said dismissevely, as he and Pembleton left the Rader apartment.

Frank had been puzzled by his partner's attitude on this case. As he'd reminded Bayliss when they were interrogating Billie, Tim was "the sensitive one", usually the one to be the first to defend the underdog, the lost cause. However, he had shown almost no sympathy for a teenaged girl who had murdered her father to protect her mother. Highly unusual. "What is it with you?" Frank enquired tersely.

"Whaddya mean?"

Frank paused to do up his jacket and looked at Tim. "You've got all the sympathy in the world for Lucille Rader yet none for her daughter?"

Tim returned Frank's stare, "Well, Lucille Rader didn't kill anyone, Frank," he replied.

"Right," Frank paused as he realised why Tim was acting like this, and he was surprised it had taken him this long to figure it out. "I see."

"What? You see what?"

"Lucille took it. Lucille suffered. She didn't cry out or rebel or fight back. She took every beating as if it were her due. Billie, on the other hand, she took on the power and for one moment at least, she won," Frank said as he moved so he was standing centimetres from Tim, knowing what he had to say, how it could affect the other man, needing to get through to him this one time. Whispering, "Listen to me. Please, please listen to me! The daughter fought and the mother didn't. So what? When it finally comes down, they're the same--different--but the same. They were abused. No matter what they did or did not do. The sin is not their own," Frank paused again, making sure he had Bayliss' full attention, and whispered, lowly, "The sin is not your own." Pembleton watched as a broken look came over his partner's face and Frank knew he was right. Of course, he was so rarely wrong.

Tim turned away as he fought for control over his emotions, not wanting to show this much weakness in front anyone, especially Frank. He started toward the elevator, his mind and emotions totally jumbled. Tim pushed the down button and watched as the elevator slowly travelled down from the 11th floor. He was startled when he felt Pembleton's hand on his arm.

"Tim, if you--"

"Leave it alone, Frank. I don't need anything from you," Tim said, shrugging the hand off of him, and walking into the now waiting elevator.

Frank frowned slightly. If that's the way Bayliss was going to be about it, fine. He didn't have to be told twice.

********************************

A few hours later, Tim drove to the address he had looked up and memorised. He still was in turmoil, unsure if what he was planning to do was a good idea. What Frank had said to him as they were leaving the Rader's still stung because he'd hit it right on. Bayliss knew he shouldn't be surprised that Frank had seen clearly why Tim was acting the way he was. Frank, with his dark eyes that seemed to bore into into his own, seeing past all the defences he put up, seeing right down into his soul. Tim shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He felt some confidence in the fact that Frank hadn't uncovered the one thing that Tim felt was most obvious, the one thing Frank wouldn't be able to accept in his partner.

Tim sighed as he pulled up in front of the house. His uncle's house. *What in the hell am I doing here. Can I be like Billie, finally, and take the power, destroy that monster? Destroy him like he destroyed me? Christ, I'm a cop...I'm a cop. Supposed to take care of dirty bastards, aren't I? Oh, God, I'll never do anything just sitting here in this fucking car.* Tim's thoughts sped through his head and as much as he might want to run, he couldn't. Running hadn't got him very far yet, had it? Bolstering his courage, Tim unfolded himself from the car and walked slowly up to the front door. He knocked, and when there was no answer, he opened the door.

He saw George almost immediately, the older man sitting on the edge of a sofa, unkempt, unspeaking. "Uncle George," Tim said, walking in. "You know me? Do you? Do you know who I am?" he asked bitterly, walking towards the old man, looking around with disdain at the mess in the house, the garbage piled on the floor.

George looked at his nephew, fear on his face. "Timothy," he said, coughing, unable to meet Tim's angry gaze.

Tim turned around, unsure if he should stay, if this would serve any purpose. He surprised himself by slamming the door shut. Picking up a liquor bottle on the table, he set it aside before sitting down on a chair beside that cheap table. He sighed as he stared at the pathetic excuse for a man sitting across from him. "Tell me something, George. Where do I put my hate?"

Even as he asked the question, he expected no answer. In a sudden flash of insight, Bayliss knew the only way to get rid of his hate and his guilt was to let them go. Move past them. Realise and accept, deep in his heart and in his soul, that the responsibility was not his, had never been his. *`The sin is not your own'* he heard Frank's voice clearly in his mind, repeating what he'd said to Tim earlier.

"Oh, God!" Tim whispered and he leaned forward, elbows on knees, his face covered by his hands. He now knew that his resentment of Billie Rader was misplaced. Tim had tried to get the power, to get away from his monster by telling his dad. His father who hadn't believed Tim, who couldn't believe his brother would do that. He had then rationalised in his young mind, that if his own father didn't believe him, no one else would, they'd just say he was lying to try and hurt his family. Therefore, he had remained silent, taking what was given.

*My monster has no power over me, look at what a miserable, broken man he is. He deserves it. I don't know if I'll ever understand why he did it. Maybe I'm not meant to,* Tim thought. He stood up suddenly and George gasped in surprise, unsure if his nephew meant him any harm...but Timmy paced, like a caged animal.

Tim looked around, he had to do something, something to keep him from thinking too much, from brooding. "You know what I'm gonna do for you George? I'm gonna clean this pigpen of yours up. Yep, going to be a good nephew and help you out. How about that, huh, George?" he said, walking into the living room and starting to pick up the garbage.

Two hours later, Bayliss finished putting the last of the garbage outside. The small house hadn't taken that long to straighten up enough so that it was livable again. He'd still have to do a little more cleaning in the kitchen and the bathroom, plus, he was going to have get some proper food for the old man, as an alcohol diet wasn't healthy. George had gone up to bed an hour ago, leaving Tim alone with his thoughts. He knew that as much as he might want to get even with his uncle, to hurt the man, that that would do nothing, other than to lower him to George's level. To make him a man who hurt his family intentionally and Tim had no wish to be remotely like his uncle.

Tim locked the door behind him as he left and headed for The Waterfront. It was his night off, but he needed the company. Looking at his watch, he was surprised, it was just past eleven--there was more than enough time to go down there and have more than a few drinks.

*************************************

"Hey, Timmy, dontcha think you've had enough already?" Lewis asked as Bayliss requested another beer. Meldrick had no idea what was up with Tim, but this was the sixth drink he'd had in the past hour and half.

"No, I don't or I wouldn't be askin' ya for more, would I? Now, do I have to come back there and get it myself or are you gonna serve me?" Tim said, frowning at the man behind the bar.

"Calm down now, I'll getcha your beer," Lewis answered, setting the bottle on the bar in front of Tim. "There you go, you happy now?"

"Yep. Thanks, Lewis," he answered before heading back to his table.

Frank paused after he walked into the Waterfront and he scanned the room, looking for his partner. Although he'd never admit it out loud, he was worried about Tim, after what had happened this afternoon. Having tried, and failed, to get ahold of Tim this evening, Frank figured he might be here. Finally noticing Bayliss sitting at a table, alone, near the back of the room, Frank strode over. "You're a hard man to find, Bayliss," Frank said as he sat down across from Tim.

"And why would you want to find me, Frank?" Tim asked wearily, taking a drink of his beer.

"Because you're my partner. Wanted to make sure you were okay. Got a problem with that?"

"No. Just not like you to be so _concerned_ with my well being. I'm honoured. The great Frank Pembleton is worried about little Timmy Bayliss," Tim replied, bitterness in his voice.

"Tim," Frank said, voice low and quiet. He wanted Tim's attention, and when he finally looked up, Frank continued, still quiet. "I'm always concerned. So, where were you tonight?"

Tim didn't seem to hear the first part, just the question and it angered him. "I was--you know something Frank, it's none of your business where the hell I was tonight. I'm your partner, not some child you have to babysit," Tim said angrily, slamming the beer bottle on the table.

"Really? Then stop acting like it. Come on, Bayliss, I'll take you home. I think you've had enough to drink," Frank said, standing up and waiting for Tim to follow him. Which Tim did, without really thinking about it. Sometimes, it felt like he'd follow Frank to the ends of the earth without question. Hell, most of the time. It didn't occur to Bayliss to be upset with Frank's ordering him around until they were outside the bar.

"Hey, why the hell do I listen to you? I didn't want to leave. Christ, I feel like a fucking puppy dog sometimes, you know that Frank? A fucking puppy who can't leave his master alone for a single minute. Jesus," Tim ranted, disgusted with himself but still following Frank to his car.

Frank didn't say anything until they were sitting in the car. "More like a dog in heat, wouldn't you say, Tim?" he asked, his voice even, his gaze boring into Tim.

Tim glared back at Frank. "What the fuck's that supposed to mean?"

"What do you think it means, Tim?" Frank replied, a small smile on his face.

Tim could feel the blood rushing to his face as he blushed."I think it means...Christ, I'm getting out of here," he said, turning to get out of the car. He realised now that _nothing_ had escaped his partner. That Frank had read him as easily as if he'd been wearing a neon sign proclaiming his feelings.

A hand snapped out, grabbing Tim, keeping him from leaving. Even in the pinkish glow from the street light which illuminated the inside of the car, Frank had caught the blush, knew that what he thought was true. Tim turned to stare at him, and he could see the pain and confusion in the other man's hazel eyes. "Frank, don't do this. Please...just don't," Tim pleaded in a whisper.

"Don't do what? Don't do this?" he asked, voice dropping to a whisper as his other hand moved up to cup the back of Tim's head, capturing him. Leaning closer, Frank pulled Tim nearer to him, slowly claiming that mouth with his own.

Tim instinctively closed his eyes, one part of his mind sure that he'd wake up and find this to be an alcohol induced dream, another part sure of the reality. The reality of Frank's hands on his body, of Frank's lips gently caressing his own, causing shivers of desire to course through his body. He moaned at the gentleness of Frank's mouth against his own, caressing, coaxing, soft; a tongue tenderly teasing his lips, asking, not demanding, to taste him. It wasn't at all like he'd dreamt about, not at all like his fantasies. There, Frank had been demanding, taking, pushing, getting what he wanted. Reality was much better. Tim opened his mouth to Frank's questing tongue, his own snaking out to glide against Frank's. *Oh, God, he tastes better than I could ever have imagined* was one of Tim's last coherent thoughts before he lost himself in his embrace with Frank.

Tim put an arm around Frank, trying to move closer to him, wanting to feel that body pressed against him. He got as close as possible, wanted to get closer, but the confines of the car were making it difficult. They continued to kiss, thoroughly exploring each other, the kiss moving from hard and passionate to softness back to passion. After what seemed an eternity and no more than a moment, the two men pulled apart, air having become a valuable commodity. Tim kept his eyes closed, afraid to see what would be directed at him from Frank's dark eyes. For a few moments, the only sound in the car was their jagged breathing. Then, softly, "Timothy," said gently and Tim opened his eyes, finally looking at Frank. Looking into those dark eyes, and unsure of what he saw. Lust, longing, need. Maybe that was all. Maybe all this was just a distraction for Frank, to keep him from feeling his loneliness, to tide him over until Mary came back, for Tim was certain she would return to her husband. If that was the case, so be it, Tim would take what he could get of this man, he had to, the chance might never be presented him again.

"I want to take you home," Frank said and Tim knew exactly what was meant, what was wanted.

"Yes," he replied and Frank started the car.

The short drive to Tim's home was the longest fifteen minutes of his life. He was going to be able to have that which he had wanted for so long. He prayed that this wasn't a dream.

Both men were quiet as they entered Tim's place, Tim closing and locking the door behind him. The tension between them was almost palpable as each watched the other remove his outer coat, then his suit jacket.

Tim couldn't stand it any longer, he had to touch Frank again, prove to himself this was real. He pulled Frank to him, arms circling the shorter man's waist as Frank's slid up around Tim's neck. He claimed Frank's mouth, his tongue gently stroking across those lush lips, sighing when Frank opened to him. As he thrust his tongue into Frank's mouth, Tim's hands slid down to cup his lover's ass, pulling him closer, making their erections rub together. Both men moaned at the contact, moving even closer to one another. After a few long moments, Frank broke the kiss, staring intensely at Tim, his hand moving to caress the other man's face. "Let's go in the bedroom," he whispered. Tim nodded his agreement, and led his partner into his room.

They walked into the bedroom, Frank closing the door behind them. Tim stood there, watching the other man, unsure what he should do, what Frank wanted him to do. He watched as Frank moved closer, his hands coming up to undo Tim's tie, then went to work opening his shirt. Closing his eyes, Tim savoured the feeling of Frank's hands as he slid them over his shoulders, down the length of his arms, pushing the shirt all the way off, letting it fall to the floor. Trailing his fingers slowly back up Tim's arm, Frank smiled, pleased with the reaction his was causing in his partner, the panting breaths, the slightly flushed skin, the obvious erection. He paused in his stroking of the other man, his hands resting on Tim's shoulders as Frank leaned forward, his tongue snaking out to flick at one of the nipples on the pale chest, before sucking it into his mouth.

"Frank!" Tim gasped at the sensation, as he blindly sought Frank's head with his hands. "Oh, God, yes," he cried in a jagged whisper as Frank moved and sucked on the other nipple. Frank stood up, letting his hands resume their journey down Tim's chest, lightly stroking his nipples, down across his abdomen, to rest at the waist band of Tim's pants. He undid the belt, then paused on the button of the fly. "Tim, do you want this, really want it?" he asked, truly concerned.

Tim opened his eyes, hazel stared into almost-black, and he answered, "Yes, Frank, I want this, I want you, I want it with you." To emphasize his point he took one of Frank's hands and pushed it against his erection. "Can't you tell?" he whispered.

"Yes," Frank replied, stroking the hard cock that was against his hand, unable to help himself. Tim groaned, eyes closing again as he pushed himself against the caress. Getting a small measure of control back, Frank stopped, and quickly undid Tim's pants, then pushing those and his boxers down, helped him to finish undressing. Tim could feel Frank's gaze on him, looking at him from head to toe, branding him with it's intensity.

"Frank..." Tim murmured, opening his eyes again. He reached over, trying to undo his lover's tie, but found that his fingers weren't working very well.

"Why don't you let me do that? I think I'll get it done a little faster," Frank said as he pushed Tim's hands away.

"Okay," he agreed amiably, pulling Frank to him for another kiss. With Tim's mouth against his, tongue in his mouth, Frank found it difficult to concentrate on removing his clothes, but he didn't want to stop the other man. However, he managed to finally remove his clothes and once naked, wrapped his arms around Tim, bringing their bodies, and erections, together.

Both moaned at the full, skin on skin contact, and Tim started caressing Frank, trailing his fingers up Frank's arms, over his shoulders, down his back. Frank pulled out of the kiss, panting, said, "Tim, let's get into bed, it'd be much easier."

They fell onto the bed and Frank rolled them so that he was on top. Tim giggled at that, not at all surprised.

"What?" Frank demanded.

"Nothing. Just knew you'd wanna be on top. Always have to be in control. Not that I'm complaining or anything," Tim answered smiling at Frank.

"Of course I'm on top, it's the only way to go, baby," Frank replied, before kissing Tim again, thrusting his tongue in and out of his lover's mouth. He drew away from Tim's mouth, moving to kiss his neck, sucking and biting at it, enjoying the murmuring noises Tim was making. Tim's hands were locked on Frank's head, trying to get him to go lower. Frank smiled, and complied, sort of. He sucked on a nipple, his tongue flicking it, teeth grazing it as he released it, before moving across to the other one.

"Oh God, oh God," Tim whispered hoarsely, wanting more. Tim shuddered as he felt Frank's mouth move down across his stomach, lower and lower, mouth caressing, tongue flicking against his heated skin. Just when Tim thought he couldn't stand anymore, just when he thought he'd go out of his mind, Frank sucked Tim's cock into his mouth. "Frank!" he screamed, thrusting upward, as his cock was enveloped in the velvet heat of Frank's mouth. Tim knew he was close, that it wouldn't take long, he could already feel his release building as Frank slid his mouth up and down Tim's cock.

He tried to warn Frank, but was barely verbal, "Frank, I'm ...oh, oh, god, OH!" he screamed, coming in hot spurts in his partner's mouth, Frank taking all that was given.

Tim was exhausted, he wouldn't have been able to move if his life depended on it. Frank moved up and kissed him gently, and Tim could taste himself in the other man's mouth. Feeling Frank's erection pressing against his thigh, Tim realised that his lover hadn't come yet. Reaching down between them, he gently grasped Frank's cock, stroking it. Frank closed his eyes, moaning and burying his face against Tim's shoulder as he started thrusting against the hand wrapped around his cock. "Tim, Tim," he chanted, his breath hot against Tim's neck.

"Yeah, that's it, come for me Frank, come on, let me feel it," Tim whispered, increasing the tempo of his strokes. Then he felt Frank's body stiffen and a muffled moan as wetness covered his hand.

Frank leaned back and watched as Tim brought his hand up, licking the ejaculate off. Tim smiled at him, "You taste good," he said quietly. Frank could think of no answer so moved and kissed his lover, gently.

Tim curled up next to Frank and the two of them wrapped their arms around each other, soon falling asleep.

***********************  
Tim woke up in the middle of the night, realised that Frank had moved away from him. "Frank?" he asked.

"I'm here, just had to go to the bathroom, Tim," he answered, crawling back into bed and spooning up behind Tim, enveloping him in his arms. Tim sighed contentedly, moving back closer to Frank, enjoying this and wanting it to last forever.

Frank suddenly asked, "You're really sure Mary will come back to me? Why?"

Tim sighed, he didn't want to talk about Mary in _his_ bed, but knew if he complained, Frank would make an annoyingly practical speech about how Mary was the woman he was married to and there wasn't any reason not to discuss her. In Tim's bed or anywhere else. He shrugged, "I just know she will, that's all," he said.

"But how can you know, that's what fascinates me, the surety with which you say that," Frank said, determined to understand.

Tim knew he could never tell Frank the _real_ reason he was so certain of Mary's return. The simple fact was, Tim knew that God would never allow him to be this happy for long, to have Frank in his life as his lover. The surest way of that happening would be for Mary to come back. So she would. Tim knew it deep in his heart, in his soul. He could never tell Frank that, he'd tell Tim his reasoning was flawed. *Just like me* Tim thought, before pushing the thought away. "She's your wife, you're the father of her children, she'll be back," Tim answered.

"That's it? Rather simple, isn't it?"

Tim rolled over to face Frank, reaching a hand to caress his face. "Yep, simple, that's me," Tim replied, then, before Frank could continue the discussion, Tim kissed him. After a few minutes, the two men broke the embrace, and Frank pulled Tim closer.

"You're anything but simple, Tim," Frank whispered against his ear.

"Frank, can we please get some sleep now?" Tim asked quietly as he cuddled up next to his lover, not wanting to think of anything but the warm body next to his. Frank murmured his consent to the idea of slumber.

Tim found that he couldn't get to sleep, even though he was tired. He was too busy thinking--about Frank, about Frank and their relationship, what would happen when Mary came back. Tim wanted nothing more than for Mary to fall off the face of the earth, to never come back to Baltimore and Frank. As he felt sleep finally starting to pull at him, Tim wondered if there was any way on earth (or in heaven) that he would, that he _could_ get what he wanted...

//**the end**\\\


End file.
